


where the heart isn't

by Ignaz Wisdom (ignaz)



Category: Hard Core Logo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-02
Updated: 2007-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignaz/pseuds/Ignaz%20Wisdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: home (ds_snippets challenge 23).</p>
            </blockquote>





	where the heart isn't

**Author's Note:**

> Also for slidellra. Those zebras can be tricky. Thanks to lamentables, eledhwenlin, and nos4a2no9.

They were fifteen when they played their first “real” gig, fresh-faced and so fucking stupid that in later years, looking back, it almost made him puke just to think of himself. But no -- that wasn't entirely the truth. The truth was that in later years, he would look back at himself and Billy at age fifteen with a tangible, throbbing ache, located right in his solar plexus, or at least where he thought his solar plexus was. And then he’d jerk off.

The thing was, between his dad’s belt and his mom’s whiskey, _home_ didn’t mean much to Joe. It was a place that stank of grime and shit, blood and tears: stenches that would follow him to the ends of the earth and back again.

Billy, though. Billy was what home was supposed to feel like. Something that was _his_.

But right then, sitting in a diner and coming down from the post-gig high, telling bullshit stories about the podunk patrons at the booths around them, it didn't matter so much that Billy was his -- what mattered was just that Billy was _there_. And okay, it also sort of mattered that Billy was drunk off his ass and wearing that wet, soft, pliant look of adoration on his face, like if he had maybe one more beer he'd pass out cold, all sloppy and heavy, and Joe could carry him back to the van.

Billy wasn't like a girl. Billy, you could hit. Billy, you could _push_. And Billy, being Billy, would push right back. Friction -- you couldn't get that from someone who wasn't a guy. You couldn't get that from someone who wasn't Billy.

But for now it was enough just to have Billy sitting across from him and not ten thousand fucking miles away in Los Angeles.

Joe said something that must have been funny because Billy was grinning and chuckling with a sort of relief, like he was glad he could keep on smiling because changing his expression would take way too much fucking energy.

_Yeah_, Joe thought, tapping the table with his dirty fingers. Billy was home. Everything was working out.


End file.
